The Love Triangle

“Sure, happy to do it.”

“Great. He can be at my office later this morning if your schedule permits you to meet him there. Oh, and I’ve told my executive assistant, Donna, to cut you a check for last week and today.”

“Kyle, you’re my kind of client.”

“Hey, you dropped what you were doing for me at the last minute, so the least I can do is pay you quick.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. So give me the address for your office.” Her eyes went wide as he told her. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why would I kid about my address?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but we’re in the same building!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“That’s my line. Anyway, you’re one floor up from me.”

“Damn, small world. We both share office space in the same dump.”

“No argument here,” she said with a sigh.

“The rent’s cheap and since I just went out on my own, I have to keep expenses down,” he explained.

“Same story here, so I know where you’re coming from.”

“Well, I guess I won’t have to reimburse you for a cab fare.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Anyway, I’ll wander upstairs in a couple of hours and make your problem go away.”

“Thanks, Lexi, I cannot thank you enough. One of these days I’ll do it in person.”

***

Lexi took the stairs, since Kyle’s office was only one flight up. Besides, the elevator in the old building was always an adventure, and the standing joke was that if the hamster fell off the treadmill that powered the ancient thing you’d get stuck.

She found the door marked “Caruso Agency”, which turned out to be right over her own office. She entered the office and found a sharp-looking thirty-something brunette manning the reception desk. The woman looked up and smiled as she stood up and extended her hand. “I’ll bet you’re Lexi. I’m Donna, Kyle’s executive assistant.”

Lexi shook her hand. “So nice to meet you, Donna.” Though she hadn’t met Kyle, he certainly had good taste in assistants. The woman was petite, maybe five-two, with huge brown eyes, high cheekbones and long, wavy mahogany hair down to the middle of her back. Very exotic. Very Italian. “So, where’s the guy I’m here to fix?”

“Every woman’s dream, huh? And you get paid to do it. Right this way.” Donna led her into a small meeting room occupied by a large blonde man, who was busy staring at his cell phone. “This is Franklin Jessup. Franklin, this is Lexi Harlow, the woman Kyle sent over for you.”

The guy looked up from his phone and stood up, towering over both women, and built like a Coke machine. “Nice to meet you.”

Lexi looked up at the hulk. “You might not think so when we’re done.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Donna.

Lexi sat at the small round table. “Big glass of water, thanks.” She gestured to the chair opposite her. “Have a seat, Franklin. So, you’re in trouble for your tweets and Facebook posts.”

The guy exhaled as he sat down with a hangdog look. “Yeah. I’ve been getting into arguments with fans and I guess some people took my last tweet the wrong way and got offended. I was just joking around. Coach fined me and then called Mister Caruso. Mister Caruso told me I should do exactly what you tell me to do.”

“Why don’t you just stay off the Internet?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m addicted, like most young people. Fans start saying hurtful things about me and I have to fight back.”

“Actually, you don’t. Do you go into the stands and fight the fans when they boo you on the field?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you shouldn’t do it online. It’s nothing more than digital road rage, like flipping the bird at someone from your car.” Donna returned and slid the glass of water next to Lexi, then leaned against the wall to listen. “Are all your accounts logged in with apps?” She pointed at his phone.

“Yeah. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat.”

Lexi reached across the table and grabbed the phone. “Franklin, you need a cleanse to fix your problem.”

“What, like drinking juice all day?”

“Nope. Social media cleanse.” She tapped his phone a few times. “Okay, that takes care of Twitter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just deleted your account.”

His eyes went wide. “Why would you do that? I had thousands of followers!”

“So you won’t get in any more trouble. By the way, you’ve got seventy thousand real followers in the stadium stands and millions more on TV every Sunday.” She tapped the phone a little more. “Okay, hasta la vista Facebook.”

“No!”

A few more taps. “And it’s sayonara to Instagram. Say bye-bye to Snapchat.”

The player bit his lower lip as Lexi continued to tap on his phone. Then she turned it over, opened it, and pulled out the SIM card. “What are you doing now?”

“First, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“For what?”

She reached in her purse and pulled out a simple flip phone. “Your new phone.” She opened the back and slid the SIM card inside, then closed it and slid it over to Franklin.

He opened it and shook his head. “No way. This is one of those phones for old people with the big numbers. All it does is make calls.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” She took his smartphone, held it over the glass of water and dropped it in.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“So you can’t get in trouble. You wanna talk to someone, or someone wants to talk to you, you now have this wonderful thing called a telephone call. No more social media, no more texting. You are cleansed and off the grid. And therefore… wait for it…”

“I can’t get in trouble.”

“Very good. So what’s more important, Franklin… your cell phone and playing on the Internet or your career and keeping your coach and fans happy?”

He slowly nodded. “My career.”

“Good.”

“You do realize I could simply go out and buy another phone.”

“You do realize that if you do I’ll kick your ass.”

He was speechless.

“Now get your butt back to practice and knock the hell out of the Falcons this weekend.”

Franklin got up and shook her hand. “Thank you, Miss Harlow.”

“You can thank me by staying off the Internet and out of trouble.” He nodded and left the office.

Donna patted Lexi on the back, then sat down next to her. “Oh my God, the look on his face when you dropped his phone in the water! You, young lady, are worth your weight in gold.”

“Thank you. Just a matter of tough love.”

“Well, it worked. Hey, you wanna go to lunch?”

***

Lexi hadn’t realized how much she needed simple girl talk. Chandler was an okay sounding board, but too much like her dad and very protective of her when it came to matters of the heart. And most of her friends were male. But she immediately sensed a kindred spirit in Donna, who seemed to be as spunky and snarky as she was.

Donna picked at her grilled-chicken salad. “So, I don’t see a ring on your finger. What’s the story here?”

“Just got out of a two-year relationship.”

“Ah, rebound city. So, taking time off from the dating pool?”

“Ya know, when I was younger I might have, but I’ve decided to simply bury the past right away and play the field for a while. Dating one guy didn’t work out… I mean, I put all my eggs in one basket and ended up with an omelet on my face.”

“Interesting visual. So, you already back on the horse? Or still looking at the racing form?”

“Got a couple of new guys on my dance card who I just met. But I simply need to have a bit of fun without anything serious.”

“I hear ya. Think you might have room for a third on that dance card? You’re perfect for my brother.”

Her face tightened a bit. “No offense, but I’m not big on fix-ups, Donna.”

“Well, I’m obviously biased, but he’s a catch and I think you two would be a great match. He loves spunky girls and he’s got this thing for redheads. Oh my gawd, he would luv ya. He’s around your age, just turned thirty. Cute as hell. Got that boy- next-door thing going. And a real sweetheart. He’s my younger brother but he’s very protective of me as if he was the older one. We’re really close.”

“That’s nice. So why hasn’t this great catch been caught yet?”

“Well, he’s never had any problems getting dates because he’s so much fun, but when it comes to getting serious… I dunno, I don’t think girls see him as what they envisioned in a husband.”

“Why, what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing. But he’s got several factors working against him. He’s, well… he’s a little guy. I don’t mean as short as me, but he’s only five-seven and slender. Not the traditional big macho guy many women want. He also doesn’t have a lot of money. He just opened his new business a year ago and finances are tight. In fact, the only way he could go out on his own was by ditching his apartment and moving in with me. So I’m searching for a girl who can look past a short guy with no money who lives with his sister and realizes good things come in small packages.”

“I don’t have any problem dating short guys. In fact, one of the guys I’m seeing this weekend isn’t much taller than me.”

“See, I knew you were open-minded. Anyway, if those two guys on that dance card of yours don’t work out, let me know. Seriously, you’re perfect for him.”

“So how did you feel about him moving in with you?”

“It was my idea. He needed the twenty-five hundred he was blowing on an apartment each month to rent an office, and I had a house all to myself. Pretty much thanks to him.”

“Not sure I follow.”

Donna grabbed her drink and leaned back. “Well, I got married when I was twenty-two to a handsome rich guy and it wasn’t working out. I caught him cheating and the sonofabitch hits me like it’s my fault. So I left the house and went over to my brother’s apartment. When he saw the black eye he was livid, went to my house and kicked the living crap out of my ex-husband, who was twice his size. My brother had been bullied a lot in school so he got a black belt in karate. Anyway, a few weeks later we show up with our lawyers for the first divorce meeting, my brother cracks his knuckles, shoots my ex the death stare and he immediately caves. Gives me the house and most of the cash. So I owe my little brother big time.”

“Okay, I haven’t even met him but his stock just went up.”

“Listen, Lexi, I married a wealthy guy who was incredibly handsome, but I was young and stupid and had stars in my eyes. I’d gladly trade the house and money to have not gone through that. So take it from me, when you do settle on a guy, make sure it’s for love. At the end of the day, looks and wealth don’t mean a damn thing.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Kyle was determined to make a good impression on the little redhead, as he was decked out in a dark blue windowpane three-piece suit. A haircut this morning, an old-fashioned shoe shine from a sidewalk guy. His red silk tie had a perfect dimple in the knot after three tries, and a matching pocket square. He looked at his watch as he leaned against his car. Ten till six.

He’d actually been there since five-thirty, having left extra time in case there was traffic. This was one date he didn’t want to miss, and he sensed she wasn’t kidding when she said she’d be gone if he was late.

Still, as he waited for his date, his mind wandered to the girl on the phone. Lexi Harlow was an amazing conversationalist, incredibly in tune with him, even though they’d never met. And with his crazy travel schedule he wondered when that would be possible.

The sight of the little redhead walking toward him knocked him back to reality.

The sweaty girl in a tee-shirt and shorts with her hair up didn’t remotely resemble the vision heading in his direction. Red tangles dusting the shoulders of her knee-length turquoise dress, her hair bouncing from the energy in her walk. Spectacular eyes done up like an Egyptian princess.

And a pair of platform heels that had to be at least five inches high. He wouldn’t be calling her Little Red.

The woman wasn’t kidding about wanting to be the dominant one in the relationship. He stood up to greet her, stretching as much as possible to his full height. Don’t say a word about her being taller.

She smiled as she moved toward him. “You’re off to a good start. I like a guy who’s on time. I really like a guy who’s early.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m here to pick up a sweaty girl from the gym.”

“Very funny. Though I thought I was glowing, not sweaty.”

“Sorry. But right now you look terrific. As my friend from the South would say, you clean up good.”

“Thank you.” She ran one finger under the lapel of his suit jacket. “And you look much better in a suit. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. Oh, one more rule for tonight, along with the hundred-dollar limit. No shop talk. We’re not allowed to talk about work.”

“Why not?”

“Because if we do that we won’t really get to know each other. People are very different away from the office.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Okay, we won’t even say what we do for a living.”

He opened the car door and gestured inside. “Right, off we go.”

She got in and looked up at him. “So where are we going?”

“A wedding.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me. It’s not just any wedding.”

“So who’s getting married?”

“Actually, no one.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“All will become clear shortly, young lady.”

Lexi smiled as she saw the marquee above the dinner theater. Angelo and Antoinette’s Wedding. “Oh, I read about this. I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Me too. Dinner theater that’s an Italian wedding beats the hell out of some depressing Ibsen play on Broadway.”

“No kidding.” They crossed the street and headed toward the box office. Lexi noted the price on the little sign in the window. “Hey, it’s fifty-nine bucks each. Do the math. You’re already over the limit. Gotta stay under a hundred bucks, remember?”

He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and held it up. “Not a problem. Two-for-one coupon.”

She nodded. “Ah. Pretty slick.”

“I’ve got one of those books with all sorts of two-fers in New York. Really pays for itself in no time.”

“I admire a man who knows how to save a buck. Since I have to do it every day.”

“I admire a woman who doesn’t get pissed off that I use coupons.” He paid for the tickets and led her inside, looking at the slip of paper the ticket seller had given him. “Hey, assigned seats.”

“Yeah, I read they do that because they have actors at each table who are part of the show.”

They found their table already occupied by a couple, who looked right out of Mafia central casting. A burly guy with slick black hair, wearing a black pinstripe suit with a white tie, and a woman with raven hair teased out to eighties standards wearing a ridiculous amount of cheap jewelry while smacking a wad of gum. The guy stood up and greeted them with a wicked Noo Yawk accent. “How youse guys doin’? I’m Carmine and dis is my ball and chain, Carmella.”

The woman glared at him. “Real nice first impression, Carmine.” She turned to them. “Youse friends of da bride or groom?”

“Uh, both,” said Lexi. “We’re Kasey and Alexandra.”

“Nice to meetcha,” said Carmine as he sat down. “Still don’t believe these two are gettin’ married. Madonne, tawk about a couple with nuthin’ in common.”

Carmella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like we’re a match made in heaven.” She turned to Lexi. “We’re like Bill and Hillary without the money or the politics.”

Lexi sat down next to her date and lightly took his arm. “This is gonna be a hoot.”

“No kidding.”

The lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on the door as the bandleader on stage moved to the microphone. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome for the very first time… Mister and Mrs. Angelo Goombatz!”

Lexi patted her belly after her last bite of chocolate wedding cake. The food was actually excellent, unlike many dinner theater meals. She leaned back and watched the newlyweds finish their first dance together with a hilarious argument on the dance floor.

“Didn’t take long,” said Carmine.

His “wife” slapped the back of his head, mussing up his hair. “Ah, shaddup, Carmine. At least let them get to the honeymoon.”

“Yeah, it’ll be the undercard on the next pay-per-view heavyweight fight.”

The song finished and the lead singer watched the newlyweds storm off the dance floor toward the kitchen, continuing their argument along the way. “Uh-oh, I think we need some damage control here. Why don’t the rest of you dance while we put away all the breakables?” The sound of plates breaking filled the room. “Too late. Anyway, please enjoy the music. Ladies, please drag your dates to the dance floor since you know damn well they’re not going to make the first move. Let’s go back to the seventies with some classic disco!”

Carmella got up, grabbed Carmine by the ear and yanked him out of his seat. “Let’s go, Fred Astaire.”

Lexi laughed, then held out her hand toward her date. “This girl wants to dance. I mean, if you know how.”

He stood up and took her hand. “I can do a box step.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh geez.”

“Personally, I’m just hoping you’ll let me lead.”

“Very funny.”

He led her to the dance floor and staked out an open space as the band played a Bee Gees’ tune. He took her hands. “Relax your arms.”

“Huh?”

“Let your arms go limp.”

“Okay.” She relaxed and within seconds he was whisking her around the floor like someone from Dancing with the Stars. The guy was incredible, even managing to twirl her despite the five-inch platforms that made him get on his toes and stretch. The other people on the floor backed up to give them more room and they suddenly found themselves bathed in a spotlight. He expertly led her through a series of slick moves, then dipped her as the song ended. The crowd cheered and applauded as he helped her up.

She was out of breath but amazed. “Sonofabitch! How the hell did you learn to dance like that?”

“My older sister. Prom queen who insisted on practicing every day after school before the big night.”

Lexi nodded. “Well, I’m impressed. Box step, ha!”

The music started again, this time a slow dance. He gave her a look that seemed to be asking permission. “Care to go again?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. I wanna see what else you’ve got in your repertoire.”

“Then we’ll be dancing all night.”

“Fine with me.” He moved closer, taking one hand while placing his other lightly on her waist. He locked eyes with her and she felt a shiver as he began to lead her in a waltz.

An hour later the singer asked for all the single women to come to the dance floor as the bride was about to throw the bouquet.

Lexi didn’t move.

Carmella looked at her hand. “Youse two aint married?”

Lexi shook her head. “First date.”

“Well, youse look like a couple. Anyway, you’re single, so getcha ass out there.”

Her date patted her on the hand. “Go ahead, be part of the show.”

She got up and headed to the dance floor, finding herself and a few other guests surrounded by all the “bridesmaids”, who were busy shoving one another to get in position. The bride stood on the stage and turned her back to the group, as the singer started the countdown. “One, two, three!” The bridesmaids practically tackled one another as the bouquet flew on a line right into Lexi’s arms. One of the bridesmaids got up and glared at her. “Look at that hair! She ain’t even Italian!”

Lexi headed back to the table, laughing hysterically as she carried the bouquet.

“Nice catch,” said her date.

She saw the groom take his place on the stage. “Hey, fair’s fair, you gotta get out there and try for the garter.”

“Well, okay.” He got up and headed to the dance floor, was surrounded by the groomsmen and caught the garter with a leaping grab.

“Okay,” said the singer. “Now this lucky guy gets to put the garter on the young lady who caught the bouquet. And I believe they’re already together.” Someone placed a chair in the middle of the dance floor and Carmella shoved Lexi out of her seat. She walked to the chair and sat while Kasey got down on one knee holding the garter.

Then the band played the old classic, The Stripper.

She widened her eyes at him as he slid the garter over her ankle, never breaking eye contact with her.

Okay, how far is he going with this?

She saw him blush while beads of sweat blossomed on his forehead. He gently slipped the garter up her calf and just over her knee, then stopped, got up, and extended his hand.

Hmmm. Gentleman.

“Last dance everyone, thank you all for coming on this very special day.”

Just as the lead singer finished the announcement, the bride chased the groom across the dance floor, screaming all the way. “I saw you checkin’ out the rack on my maid of honor! You shoulda married her!”

The crowd laughed as Lexi finished her glass of wine just as her date extended his hand. “One for the road?”

“Sure.”

She followed him to the already-crowded dance floor as the band played a romantic oldie she recognized. He reached for her hands but she moved forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He leaned back and smiled, looking up at her as he slid his arms around her waist, locking his fingers on the small of her back.

“This is that song from Ghost, right? The one when Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore are doing pottery.”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“What’s it called?”

“Unchained Melody.”

“That’s an odd name for a song.”

“That’s because it’s from the movie Unchained.”

“How the hell did you know that?”

“I read a lot. And I never miss Jeopardy.”

The wine and the music relaxed her. She pulled him a little closer, breathed in his earthy cologne as they swayed to the music. She rested her head on his shoulder.

Wearing ridiculous heels did have its benefits.

They stepped out into the cool night air. “I have to admit, that was a great experience,” said Lexi. “I am willing to concede you’re very good at planning a date.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet. It’s only nine and I’ve got forty-one dollars left.”

“There’s more?”

“It’s not even close to being over. One more stop. Right around the corner.”

“If it’s that cheesecake place I’m stuffed and couldn’t eat another bite.”

“It’s a restaurant, but we’re not going to eat anything.”

“I don’t understand. If we’re not—”

“Patience, young lady. We’ll be there shortly.”

They turned the corner and she saw bright lights coming from inside the restaurant, so bright they lit up the sidewalk. “What’s going on in there?”

He opened the door and ushered her inside. “Movie set. My buddy is an assistant director and he needed some well-dressed extras. You’re about to be in a major motion picture.”

She saw a tall man moving toward them she recognized as Jimbo from the basketball game. “Hey, buddy, I appreciate you coming by.” He turned to her. “This can’t be Little Red.”

“It’s me. My workout clothes are in the wash, so I threw on this old outfit.”

“Well, you sure clean up good.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Second time I’ve heard that tonight. Thank you.”

“You guys look perfect for this scene. Follow me.” He led them over to a desk filled with a bunch of papers manned by a young woman. “If you’ll each fill out one of these and then I’ll get you situated.”

“What’s this for?” asked Lexi.

“Union rules for extras.”

“Okay.”

They filled out the forms, then followed Jimbo over to an empty table. The restaurant was filled with well-dressed couples while one table stood empty in the middle of the room. A woman with a light meter wandered around checking things. Jimbo gave a loud whistle. “Okay, everyone, listen up. In this scene our stars will be seated at this table. While they’re talking I want you all focused on one another. Don’t look at the actors or the camera. Remember, don’t actually talk, just pretend by mouthing words. As soon as the actor gets down on one knee to propose, I want you all to turn and watch. It would be nice if all the women got a dreamy-eyed look. Then when the actress accepts and he puts the ring on her finger, I want everyone to cheer and applaud. Got it?”